It Rolls Downhill
by first time caller
Summary: Nate is overwhelmed. Brad helps him deal. Brad/Nate, implied Brad/Ray. Rated M for sexual situations


Characters: Brad/Nate, implied Brad/Ray

_Didn't happen, wouldn't happen, couldn't happen. But let's pretend! Don't own Generation Kill, and I'm not profiting from it. Based on fictionalized characters played by actors and not on any real people._

_I'm a little ashamed of this one, but I firmly believe in sharing one's shame with the rest of the world, so in that spirit..._

**Shit Rolls Downhill**

"Christ, that's it Sergeant," gasped Nate, adjusting his stance slightly to give Brad better access. "Don't fucking stop until I come all over your hand." His normally clear green eyes were dark and heavy lidded as Brad gripped his cock tighter and jerked him off with rough, calloused strokes.

This was third or fourth time Nate had come to Brad like this since they had begun their Magical Mystery Tour across Iraq, practically vibrating with pent up need and tension and desperately seeking release. It always seemed to happen when Nate returned from briefings with the other officers, and after he, in turn, briefed his Team Leaders on the latest nonsensical order, change in the ROE, or the Grooming Standard. He never shared his frustrations as he delivered these proclamations from on high, but one look at his bitten lips and the resignation on his face told Brad all that he needed to know about his LT's state of mind. And each time, when Nate looked up at him, jerking his head almost imperceptibly to indicate a berm or some other secluded spot, Brad nodded his assent. It was, after all, the job of a good Sergeant to help keep his LT's head in the game, and Brad took his job very seriously.

A shudder rocked Nate's body as he came, covering Brad's hand, dribbling down inside the trousers of his MOPP suit. For a moment they stood there, Nate's cock softening in Brad's fist, their moist foreheads pressed together, breathing deeply.

Nate recovered first. "Clean yourself off, Sergeant," he ordered, ever the officer.

Brad slowly withdrew his hand from the front of Nate's trousers. "You made quite a mess, sir," he commented before raising his fingers to his lips and sucking them in one by one. Nate moaned softly as he watched Brad suck and lick the come from his hand.

"All better now?" asked Brad as Nate cleaned himself up with a baby wipe and straightened his clothing. "Feel fit for command again?" His voice was sarcastic but genuine concern colored his keen, arctic eyes.

Nate gave him a shaky smile. "Thanks, Brad. Everything's just so fucked up right now. I don't even know…I mean, what the fuck is the point of all of this," - he gestured at the surrounding desert landscape, littered with discarded MRE wrappers, concertina wire and the other trappings of an invasion - "if we're just going to leave things worse than when we found them?" He met Brad's steady gaze. "Sometimes I wonder if anyone thought this war through at all. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised to find out it was all some huge mistake." He sighed, a mournful sound in the night.

Brad cupped Nate's face in one of his large hands. "You may be right about that, sir. I've wondered myself. The one thing that I can tell you, though, is that no matter what comes out of this giant clusterfuck of an invasion, you've earned the respect of your men."

Nate's lips twitched slightly. "Does that include you, Sergeant Colbert? Have I earned your respect as well?"

Brad's chuckle was low and rumbling. "Isn't that a bit insecure, sir? You are an officer, after all. Where's that over-inflated sense of your own importance, your pride in maintaining the status quo?"

Nate laughed, the first that Brad had heard out of him in far too long, before growing serious once again. "I mean it Brad. These times, when we're together like this, you've never once asked me to get you off. I don't want you to think that I don't…"

Brad cut him off. "Look, sir, I know how this works. You get shit on by your superiors. Shit rolls downhill. It's my job to keep it from coming down too hard on the rest of the men. If this helps you, it's good for all of us."

"But Brad," protested Nate, "it's not fair of me to take advantage of you like this." He turned to leave, but Brad's hand on his shoulder halted his retreat.

"Don't worry too much about me, sir." Brad's voice was low as he spoke into Nate's ear. "Like I said, shit rolls downhill. I'll drag Ray off somewhere later."

The End


End file.
